


Teacher AU

by asarahworld



Series: The Doctor and Rose Tyler [7]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - Teachers, F/M, Ficandchips, Tumblr: doctorroseprompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 10:35:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11229177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asarahworld/pseuds/asarahworld





	Teacher AU

Music was something to be enjoyed. A catchy pop song playing on the radio or bad karaoke at the pub. Music was not what woke one up at six in the morning, a tinny recorder coming from the flat upstairs. Rose was no stranger to practicing music, having been an off-again, on-again backup singer in her ex’s band. But that was music. Guitars and drums and singing. Music. 

Rose rolled over, pulling her pillow over her head. Her neighbour continued to play, and she knew that he would not stop for at least an hour. Sometimes, she wondered whether he knew that someone lived downstairs. Sometimes, she wondered if the recorder was a real instrument. Occasionally, he was joined by another on bagpipes. Always, at six o’clock in the morning.

Exactly thirty minutes later, her alarm clock rang. Why she always set her alarm clock when her neighbour would be practicing a half hour before that was a mystery, even to herself. Sighing, Rose finally got up, keeping her comforter draped securely over her body, heading for the loo.

Seven o’clock came and went, and Rose was heading out the door for work. She told herself she was lucky to have this job as a teaching assistant at the primary school, but that didn’t make it any easier to dredge herself out of bed in the morning. Her mother had forwarded her a letter from Tony’s teachers, who had been looking for a TA for the younger grade. Rose helped in the art classes. Art had been one of the things that she had been good at in school, before she’d left. Art, and PE; maths and science had never held her interest.

“Oh, yes, so sorry. Do excuse me, I’m trying to find the music room.” A man, holding a recorder ploughed straight into Rose as she entered the school. “It’s my first day, and I’ve already been by the office twice,” he admitted.

“It’s right across the art room. I’m heading that way myself, I’m the TA. Rose Tyler,” she extended her hand.

“John Smith,” he shifted a narrow velvety bag to his left hand and took hers. “Music.”

Rose’s eyes were on the bag. “Is that a recorder?”

“Oh, er, yes. I’ve been trying to teach myself before I had to teach these kids. I’m afraid my neighbours must think I’m crazy, practicing away before school starts. I’ve a friend who plays the bagpipes, actually, and he’s been trying to help me learn music properly.” John admitted.

“This is the art room. Music is just at the end of the corridor, on the left.” Rose’s hand hovered over the handle. It was only eight. The first art class wasn’t until nine. “When do your classes start?”

“Nine, I believe.” John dumped his bag on the desk at the front of the room, rifling through papers. “Aha,” he muttered, pulling out a sheet. “Music. Year fours. Oh, my giddy aunt. Never thought I’d end up in here.”

“Good luck. Year fours this year are quite a handful. Though I should say that Year sixes are also not the best students at the moment, what with the SATs next month.” Rose relayed some stories about the students in her classes. “But don’t let this go to your head, yeah? Let them have a chance to present themselves.”

“Thank you, Miss Tyler.” John looked to the clock. “I really should organize these papers. I suppose that I should be somewhat organized when I meet the students.”

“Sorting the music?” Rose asked curiously. At John’s nod, she continued: “I used to sing in a band, never learned how to read music, though.”

“Anyone famous?” John asked, starting to sort through the music.

“Nah,” Rose scoffed. “ex-boyfriend, some sorta screamo or emo or I don’t really know. My voice didn’t really fit in with the band, only filled in a coupl’a times. If you don’t play the recorder, what is your instrument, music teacher?”

“Flute,” John’s eyes lit up. “It’s related to the recorder, of course, but the mouthpiece is completely different. It’s also much easier to achieve quality tone.” He went on, comparing the two instruments. Rose lingered, listening to his descriptions with interest, though she wasn’t interested in the flute. Or the recorder. At John’s request, she deposited one copy of each piece onto the music stands while he got out the class’s set of recorders.

“Just look at the state of these. It’s no wonder the students are very good,” he moaned, appraising the instruments.

“Not very good quality?” Rose surmised. She stifled a laugh at John’s grimace. “I know the feeling. You should see the condition of the art supplies. Brushes with bent bristles, the easels have pen marks all over them, half the paint is dried out because nobody ever replaces the lids when they’ve finished.” She glanced at the clock, starting with surprise.  
“Well, I suppose that time flies when you’re having fun. That or your classroom is actually a sort of time machine into the future.” Rose laughed gently.

“Wish me luck?” John smiled hopefully.

“Good luck,” Rose said, not bothering to contain a grin. “You’ll need it,” she added, already halfway down the corridor.


End file.
